judri + there was only one bed trope in the Adidas campaign wip that I'm not going to finish
“You’re not serious. It’s not even that big of a deal.” “A scene” was a eufemism for what Jude was doing in the hotel lobby. Still fully dressed, waving his hands in the air in sheer exasperation. They couldn't seriously be doing this.
“Jude, you arrived after curfew, rules are rules.”
Ridiculous fucking curfew, Pedri whispered against the cold marble pressed to his forehead as he leaned on the receptionist's counter, his murmur low enough so no one would hear.
It was already enough of a mockery that both teams had to share the same hotel for the Adidas campaign, and now they had a curfew like they were academy kids all over again. A night out to walk around the city had turned into a full-blown uproar at the front desk; he tried to argue in their defense, useless as it was—he hadn’t seen the time slip away, and by the time he realized, it was already too late. The elevators were shut down for going up, and a failed bribery attempt with the receptionist ended with a crowd of players watching them while the campaign manager explained to Pedri and Jude that they wouldn’t be allowed in their rooms.
“What am I supposed to do now? Are you going to leave me to sleep on the street?” Pedri lifted his head from the counter when he heard that, startled by the possibility. There was no way they’d actually do that, right?
“We are considering the possibilities.” The man’s thin, white beard was starting to irritate him just as much as his fat, flushed face; his oval, clear-framed glasses made his face look squashed, and his lenses had that horrible green tint that was starting to give him a headache. “You broke a contractual rule, there is a lot to ponder.”
Jude and Pedri swapped positions almost in perfect sync; now, Pedri stepped away from the counter completely, standing closer to the few teammates who had come along for the campaign.
“Is this really such a serious issue? It was only a few minutes,” his persuasion tactics were better than Jude's, of that he was certain. Even so, the manager’s posture didn't relax.
“It’s been two hours.” Lamine broke the silence, laughing at Pedri’s obvious lie. He sounded like he hadn't meant to say it so loudly, which didn't help, as all the players were suddenly holding back laughs while looking at Pedri.
“What happened? Were you guys together?” He recognized the voice of João Pedro, from Chelsea.
“No!” Pedri and Jude blurted out at the same exact time, which only made everything a thousand times more embarrassing. At least it seemed to convince most of them, even if Pedri’s flushed cheeks cost him some credibility.
Honestly, he was cold and exhausted. He had spent the entire way back dreaming of a heated room and a soft mattress, and now that was being stripped away by a childish little rule.
“Not that I need to give any explanations, but I was walking around the city, taking in the view,” Jude spoke with an arrogance that made him sick. The wink he gave as he uttered the last sentence made Pedri throw his head back and roll his eyes. “As for him, I wouldn't know.” Jude shrugged, glancing sideways at Pedri. The masked phoniness only served to annoy him further, and he scoffed, turning his head away and shaking it in disbelief at Jude’s petty attitude.
It became crystal clear to everyone there that they couldn't stand each other, and that a few more minutes in that huge, irritatingly luxurious lobby would end in a nuclear catastrophe.
“What are you going to do?” Asking what their punishment would be felt too childish, something that would only humiliate him further. He tried to sound indifferent with the question; maybe that way a lighter penalty would be imposed. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Jude was also anxiously waiting for the answer, though he tried to hide it. The air in the room seemed to run out, and every gaze turned to the manager, waiting for the sentence; surprisingly, he looked like he didn't know what to do.
One, two, three long seconds of silence.
“Make them share a room.” Raphinha suggested; he could barely get the words out because he was laughing so hard, and all the other players followed suit as expressions of sheer dread crossed Pedri and Jude’s faces. Hands flew to cover mouths and eyes darted away as Pedri stepped back from Raphinha, in absolute shock at the betrayal.
To make matters worse, the manager actually seemed to consider it.
“You’re not seriously considering that, sir.” Ah, so now Jude decided to call him 'sir'. Only now were his words careful, as if he were walking on eggshells.
“It’s not a bad idea,” the manager said simply, and Pedri knew his face was a picture of pure terror. Ignoring him completely, the manager turned to the receptionist. “It’s decided then. Please, put them in the cheapest room, away from the others.”
Jude threw his arms out and looked around, unable to believe there wasn’t a single person against the sentence. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“It’s done, the show is over. Everyone to your rooms now.” The manager waved his hands to disperse the crowd, and everyone walked off whispering and commenting to one another about the stratospheric embarrassment Jude and Pedri had just endured. Only the two of them were left in the grand lobby with the fat director and the receptionist, who was bright red with embarrassment.
She typed on the computer absurdly loud before handing each of them a keycard for the room. The manager looked ridiculously pleased with himself, and Pedri felt a sudden urge to punch him.
“Fuck this shit,” it was incredible that Jude could even find his voice after that humiliation. They were going to hear about this forever, holy shit.
Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse, when he allowed himself the luxury of thinking he wouldn't face any more surprises tonight, the bedroom door unlocked, and there was only one bed inside.
A single bed planted right in the middle of the room over a rough carpet.
There was no couch, no second room, not even a pillow to spare. Just a bed staring back at them with all the malice in the world.
“No fucking way,” he backed away from the doorframe, shaking his head in refusal. “No. No.”
“Neither of you is in a position to choose,” the manager spoke, his confidence seemingly restored by their reaction.
Jude wasn't doing any better; his look of disbelief was comical, his mouth hanging so wide open in shock that Pedri thought a fly might suddenly buzz in and choke him. He’d actually love for that to happen. He’d absolutely love it.
“We’re not doing this,” Jude said; the manager turned his head to glare at him almost threateningly, narrowing his eyes in a completely infuriating way. Pedri could see Jude’s fists clenching, his entire body resisting the urge to smash that ridiculously round face. He’d actually love for that to happen. He’d absolutely love it.
“Again, neither of you is in a position to choose. A contractual rule was broken, and now the two adults will serve the punishment for it. Just as the two adults will take it with their mouths shut and sleep in the room together.” His words came through clenched teeth, laced with anger.
“But there’s only one bed,” Pedri pointed out, and immediately after, felt ridiculous, almost like a spoiled child stomping his foot.
“Not my problem,” the manager said simply, extending his arm toward the door, inviting them in. Reluctant, Pedri entered first, stepping carefully onto the carpet, immediately catching the scent of cheap air freshener that was already making him nauseous. He heard Jude’s sigh behind him and the faint scrape of his slides against the rough floor; soon after, his loud, overwhelming presence was right at his back. As Jude closed and locked the door, he heard the manager utter one last whisper: “You should be glad I’m not making you sleep in the laundry room with the rats.”
Raphinha was going to pay for this.
This idiot manager was going to pay for this.
Jude was going to pay for this.
The moment he heard the footsteps fade down the hallway, Jude’s back was pressed against the door.
“You’re getting really good at pretending,” Pedri said, still angry, against his mouth, unable to last another minute away from those lips, unable to endure another second without his hands sneaking under Jude’s shirt.
“I could say the exact same thing.” Jude didn't look much better, unable to fight off the grin as he spoke; his fingers sliding from Pedri’s waist down further, and further…
“I’m still mad, look at the mess you got us into.” Pedri stopped him, grabbing Jude's wrists with his palms and pulling them up to the small of his back, blocking Jude from crawling down to his ass. “A quick night walk, you said… now we’re both in trouble.”
Faced with that, Jude offered no defense, making no move other than pressing their mouths together once more, calmly resisting the grip on his wrists, loosening them gently to wrap around Pedri’s thighs, hoisting him up so his legs circled his waist. Being carried, Pedri let Jude guide them toward the bed.
“Look how mean they are to us, they even gave us a bed, making us share a room… what is wrong with them?”
Pedri arched as he was settled onto the bed, wrapping his hands around those dark shoulders, pulling him down, into him. “I’m still mad.”
Jude sucked on his lip a little harder. “Hmmm… I know you are.”
origamiaround
prguitarman
2087
gummygunk
